Primrose Path
by PlayfulxPurple
Summary: After the tragic death of her mother, Ayane is sent to live with stepfather on the high sea. He is a respected navy commander, but when the legendary Whitebeard Pirates attack the ship and demand their money, Ayane is traded as bribery. Portgas D. Ace x Reader


I hold my breath and lift myself onto the wooden baulk, balancing carefully against the roughly squared beams. The late evening sun glares at me, casting light up from the ocean. I sink to my knees and peak over the front of the figurehead at the waves crashing against the bow. The pull of the tide isn't all that strong, but it sways the _First Rose _gently across the clear, blue water.

The carved figure makes for a good place to sit. It looks exactly like a primrose with pale yellow petals blooming wildly across the bow. A primrose, in my opinion, is the pursuit of pleasure, a life of ease, my way of life. I've been told I think a lot like my mother. She was the one who had the figurehead built onto the ship. It represented her way of life, but to me, it represented all that is left of her; pale yellow hair, and a vow to live without restraint. My mother was a lot like an evening primrose before she wilted and died.

I push the memories of her to the back of my mind and enjoy the cool air that drifts in from the breeze. When she died, I felt numb, all I could do was hold onto her memory, adopt her believes, but now I think her memory is what reminds me I'm alive. It makes me appreciate the little things since birth I've neglected to understand. I see them for what they are. Mom made me take a fine tooth comb through life and open up the adventure it had to offer.

"Get down from there, Miss Maresato," my bodyguard Julius calls from behind the railing, carrying an elegant bell-shaped dress in his arms, Alice's tasteless work no doubt. Julius keeps his squinty eyes on me. He reminds me of a chipmunk dressed in formal civvies. His rosy red cheeks easily protrude from behind the medical mask he wears to prevent the smell of the ocean from wafting up his nose.

"You should have more respect for this ship," calls another voice, tinged in aggravation. Alice narrows her eyes and stands with her cleft chin high in the air. "Why, in my day children your age did as they were told, and never questioned their elders. They most certainly never climbed on top of the ship's figurehead. It's a sign of disrespect." There she goes again, telling stories about her day. She's like the wise, old man, even though she's not that old. Julius is older than she, but it's hard to tell behind all the makeup she wears.

"I'm not coming down," I say. "I just . . . want to be alone. I want to watch the ocean and forget about everything else, and I'm tired of the real world hassling me." I dare not say the rest aloud. I want to live without rules and restrictions. My mother did, and so can I.

"Commander Maresato is expecting you to join him for lunch," Alice reminds me.

"I know," I sigh, chewing on the inside of my jaw — I only do this when I'm annoyed. I've been told it looks like I'm blowing kisses.

_Always listen to my stepfather. _I promised mom I would respect him. It's made me obedient, like Alice always says, _parents are God in the eyes of a child._

I glance over my shoulder at the pair behind me. Alice is red in the face, mostly aggravated I'm taking this long to react. Julius is calm though, fiddling with a loose string on the edge of his ironed shirt. I don't know why I have to deal with these two, but Alice and Julius have been my guardians since birth.

Alice grits her teeth. "It's going to be my head if I don't get you dressed and in the dinning area before Commander Maresato finishes with his bath."

"It could be an improvement," Julius cuts in, ignoring the fact Alice has turned her bloodshot eyes on him. Julius laughs and holds his medical mask closer to his face.

Alice uses the baulk for balance as she reaches out and grabs my shoulder, pulling me toward her with a rough yank that I almost topple onto my back. She picks me up and throws me over her shoulder despite Julius begging her to let me walk. I forget sometimes just how strong Alice is. She is known around my village as 'Armstrong Alice Caroline' the ex-marine, but she swears that is in the past. Now she's just a couturier working aboard my stepfather's ship.

"The Commander is going to be furious," Julius says as Alice carries me into the women's chambers.

"She asked for it," Alice says, grinning like a fool.

"I can walk. Put me down," I laugh.

"I'm not a stupid woman. Why, when you were a child, you always use to lie your way out of things. I won't fall for your fake tears today. Not as long as Armstrong Alice Caroline is in charge of you," Alice says, dragging me into the bathroom as if she plans to give me a bath herself.

I can't stop laughing.

Alice made me a beautiful dress. She designed it to match the latest fashion from the recent village we last visited. She always puts her heart into making my clothes, even though I act like I don't appreciate them. This one, the dress I'm supposed to wear for the lunch with my stepfather is my favorite so far. It's made with the most expensive cotton material with elegant white lace and obsidian colored bows. The dress blooms around my legs as I walk down the spiral staircase to the dinning area. My stepfather is sitting at the dinning room table, which is loaded with delicious looking foods from around the world.

"Ayane!" my stepfather says. I give him a curt nod and make my way to the chair across from him. "You look beautiful. I see Alice hasn't lost her touch."

Speaking of Alice, she and Julius are present as well, standing in the corner of the room. Against the wall beside them is a man I can't stand, one of my stepfather's best guards. His name is Hagamar von Bleibruck, sir Hagamar of the Marines. I figured he earned his title because his father is a Marine, as well as his grandfather and his father before that. Apparently my stepfather's opinion of people isn't as open as mine.

"Sir Hagamar, if you don't mind," my stepfather says, motioning his hand toward me. The graying model of a man says nothing and walks toward me, offering me the chair next to my stepfather instead of the one across from him. I send him a glare and take it.

"Since you're here, we should eat now," my stepfather says, smiling. He begins inhaling his food, even before the kitchen staff can fill his plate. It's disgusting. I push my plate back and scoot to the edge of my seat, hoping he doesn't accidently try to eat me too. He certainly could if he tried. With the way his throat retracted, swallowing everything without first chewing it up. I suppose the epithet 'Viper' wasn't one to second a guess.

After a while of feeding his gut, he stops and looks at me, poking at a piece of meat with my fork. I still can't bring myself to eat it.

"You know," he says. "You look like a spitting image of Tsubaki from youth." Tsubaki was my mother's name, and it fit her so well, a flower with no scent. When it dies, it's said to be tragic. Her death was indeed so, because she died of a broken heart, and all because of a pirate.

The man considered my father is the man responsible for killing my mother. He left us the day I was born, and even though my mother hid the pain from me, the memories with him eventually killed her. I blame myself, because she had to look at his image in me every day. These same eyes, this smile, even the way he chewed the inside of his cheek. It must have tormented her. I hate pirates because of him.

Suddenly there was a loud bang, like cannon fire outside the ship. The interior shifts roughly, tossing me out of my seat. The walls creak loudly and I can hear wood shatter above the deck. The staff, and everyone inside the dinning hall is thrown around the room, clinging on for dear life. Once the barrage ceased, I pick myself off the floor and look around.

The dinning room was a complete mess. Tables and chairs lay on their sides, dishes were shattered to pieces across the floor and people scurried to help each another. The large, beautiful staircase I walked down was torn off the banister and lay motionless on the floor. I felt a sharp pain in my head and touched the spot where it hurt. When I retracted my hand, blood covered the tips of my fingers. Something must have hit me when the room collapsed.

Moments later, the dinning hall doors burst open and a member of the staff races in. Panting and out of breath, he stops mid ways in the room and looks around.

"Oh dear," he gasps. "Commander, are you still alive?"

The table close to me shook, and was sent hurling into the wall, splintering to pieces as my step father and Sir Hagamar emerged from the mess. The table must have crashed onto them when the room was destroyed. My stepfather coughs and stands up with the help of Sir Hagamar who looks untouched.

"What is going on here?" my stepfather shouts to the staff. "What have you idiots done?"

The timid boy shook uncontrollably, "Commander, its pirates. The Whitebeard Pirates have come aboard and ask to have an audience with you."

"Whitebeard Pirates?" I ask myself, looking at my stepfather for an answer.

"Nonsense, " he shouts in anger. "Blow them out of the water."

"I'm sorry sir but we can't," the staff boy says.

"What do you mean we can't?" My stepfather shouts, causing the veins in his head to throb.

"When they . . . when they attacked us, they aimed for the mast, and once it fell the cannons on the deck were damaged," he replies, voice tinged in fear. "If we tried to fire them now, it could cause them to explode and the entire ship could sink."

My stepfather sighs, "Let them into the dining hall so I can speak with them."

"They're pirates," I shout in anger. "You can't let them take the ship. We have to fight them. You're a Marine. It's your job to capture pirates." I don't think he heard a word I said. He stares at the floor with whatever internal battle he is fighting in his head.

The chore boy leaves and for a moment it's silent. Not even the waves can be heard crashing against the side of the ship. Suddenly, I hear footsteps approaching. Three, maybe four at the most from the upper deck. They walk leisurely toward the dinning hall til finally the footsteps' cease in front of the large double doors in front of us.

They open with the chore boy in the lead. Two other men follow behind him. The first glances around the room in awe. He was lean, yet muscular with blond hair, and a dark blue silhouette of a tattoo on his chest. He whistles under his breath as he walks across the room, surveying the damaged ship.

"This ship isn't half bad," he says with a smile, turning his head til he spots me. "for a Marine ship." He ends his sentence with a distinct 'yoi' and winks toward me, nudging the other crew mate of his in the arm.

The second pirate turns, looks at me, and slowly, slowly waves at me, taunting me. He is tall and muscular, with shaggy dark hair hidden beneath an orange cowboy hat. His shoulders are bare with the exception of the words ASCE on his upper left biceps, written vertically. He laughs as I roll my eyes.

The chore boy approaches my stepfather and bows again. "Sir . . . the Whitebeard Pirates as you requested."

"Which of you is the captain?" my stepfather asks sternly. I can hear the trembling in his voice.

"Out of the three of us who boarded, none," says the pineapple-haired blond. He says it like it's a joke.

My stepfather smiles, "In that case, no offence to your captain, but I'm afraid I'm going to have to seize the two of you and your ship in the name of the Marines." He snaps his fingers and Julius and Alice emerges from the piles of food and splintered wood. They were hiding all along. That's a relief and somewhat of a let down.

"I'll get rid of them quickly, sir," Julius says, taking a familiar stance. He rocks his body back and forth, swinging his arms in constant motion. It's called Capoeira and Julius is a master at it. Julius uses a series of rolls and acrobatics to get himself closer to the two pirates, to lay up an attack, but before he can preform some single rasteiras; a quick leg sweep, he is grabbed by the arm and pulled through the floor. His body disappears beneath the interior of the ship.

"Julius," I shout, running for him. Before I can get close, Alice grabs me by the arm and holds me back, pushing me behind her. I hold back tears and glare at the two pirates. A third man is now in the room.

He hoists himself up through the hole where Julius disappeared and lands on the floor with a thunderous bang. He is big, maybe even several feet taller than the other two, and heavily armored with dark skin. His face is long with straight black stripe patterns for a beard and his lips are limp with a perpetual scowl. He appears battle-hardened. The reason he may have been hiding in the floor was to sneak attack anyone who interfered.

"That's cheating," Alice growls. "In my day adults fought fair, face-to-face. We didn't hide ourselves beneath the floor and attack when the opponent was occupied."

The pineapple laughs and taps his finger against his chest, "We're pirates, remember?"

Alice pushes me back, knocking me to the floor and charges at the giant. Once she is close, she swings her fist back and aims it at him, connecting her knuckles to his chest. I wait for the giant to fall, but instead Alice screams out in pain and grabs her arm, the bones shattered and prodding out of her skin. It's like his body is made of steel or diamond. He raises his arm and swats Alice like a bug, sending her flying across the room. She lays motionless against the wall.

I gasp, holding my hand over my mouth. He defeated them without a single bit of effort. They're monsters, all of them. I can't allow another single pirate to take away those close to me. I run over to the shattered table Hagamar tossed against the wall and pull loose a leg with nails sticking from the top, holding it at arms length in front of me. "Get the hell out of here. Just leave us alone, or I'll kill every single one of you."

"No need to get violent," the pineapple says, lifting his hands in defense. "We just came to talk. Our captain sent us to collect the money you owe us."

I let my arms sag a little, but my grip on the table leg tightens. "Collect? But we don't owe you any money. The Marines would never borrow money from pirates."

"Dirty Marines, maybe," says the second pirate. His voice sounds almost sincere.

"That's not true," I shout. My body is shaking from the serge of adrenalin pushing through me. "You're a liar," I say through clinched teeth.

"Ayane," my stepfather calls. I turn and look at him, searching his face for any trace of disbelief, but he avoids my gaze. I gasp, pointing the leg at him, but Hagamar blocks him. "You're too young to understand how the world works. We need money to survive. Money is what feeds you, clothe you, gives you a pillow to lay your head on at night. I don't expect you understand what I mean, so just be quiet."

I can't believe he is doing this. I hold back tears, biting my bottom lip til it stings. The table leg drops to the floor at my feet and my hands clutch the fabric of my dress. My body goes numb as I stare at the rich color of the carpet beneath my feet. It's not until I hear my stepfather stand up and walk toward me that I glance up at him. His face is void of emotion. He lifts his hand and places it on my cheek, wiping the tears off my face.

"Whitebeard Pirates," he calls, his voice clear and gruff. "I don't have the money owed to you just yet. I'm a dirty Marine, but I still have some honor left in this old body of mine. I'll pay your captain the 100,000,000 beris, but I'll do it without pilfering and killing the less fortunate. In the mean time, I would like to lend my stepdaughter to your captain until my debt it paid in full."

I gasp, "You can't do this. I'm . . . I'm not something to be bargained."

"You have a deal," I hear the pineapple say. I turn and glare at him, wanting so badly for him to drop dead. "Of course, the girl is just a loan. She isn't worth a single beri, so we're raising the price to 800,000,000."

"Hagamar, if you would please," my stepfather says.

I feel him grab my arms and pull them behind my back. I resist against him, jerking my body forward in violent bursts, but Hagamar doesn't let go. If anything, his grip grows tighter, making my wrists burn. He uses his body to nudge me along, keeping one hand on the back of my neck to guide me forward. When we are at least a few feet away from the pirates, he releases my neck and hands, pushing me toward them. I stumble forward and fall to my knees in front of them. My body can't take anymore. My will is crushed.

I sit on the floor unable to move. It hurts so much, but I can't even squeeze out a tear. I want to scream, to fight, but I have nothing left to uphold. My father left me when I was a child, my mother died because of that, now the only family I have left is giving me to pirates. How do I keep on fighting when everyone expects me to just shut up and die?

I flinch as a hand touches mine. I look up, staring into the dark, sincere eyes of a pirate, the one who waved at me. His sun burnt hat darkens his face, but I can see small traces of childish freckles across his cheeks. I feel nervous this close to him, given the wide space between us. My face and eyes sting with heat. He slips his hand around my wrist while the other one grabs my shoulder, lifting me to my feet. I still feel a little shaky but I'm able to stand on my own with the pirate letting me lean against his side, of course.

"You have until the end of the month," the pineapple says. I'm afraid to look at my stepfather. I just don't know what to think. It could be the heat getting to me.

His body is usually warm, almost like fire is licking at his body. I turn my head a little, pressing my cheek into shoulder. The end of his hair tickles the tip of my nose as I breathe in his scent. He smells so good, and my face heats up again. This earns a laugh from the pineapple, who sees me.

"Someone has a way with the girls," he teases, receiving a grunt from freckles. His body presses harder into mine.

I can hardly breathe at this point and lean back to look at the two of them. The blond is holding back a laugh as freckles' glares at him. He makes an incredulous expression by raising his left brow and grins.

"Way to blow the mood," he jokes. How vulgar he can be.

"Please just go," I beg, fighting to get out of his hold. He looks at me, dropping his brow. The grin remains. "I don't care if you blow up the ship and kill me and everyone inside of it."

Freckles narrows his eyes. I could be mistaken, but it looks like I made him mad. His hand slides up the small of my back, heating a trail up my spine as he glides it over the area of my arm where my shoulder meets my neck. I shiver and swallow the fear. I didn't expect to make him so angry.

"Sorry, but we don't always get our way," was all he said.

I felt a sharp pinch then everything went black.


End file.
